


One Last Time

by DreamingAngelWolf



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Dreams, M/M, Moving On, Off-screen Character Death, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 08:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2574116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingAngelWolf/pseuds/DreamingAngelWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dreams can be beautiful things, showing us what we most desire, what we love in life, and what makes us happy. They can also be cruel, a mockery of the truth and a reminder that some desires are only attainable through our imaginations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my fault I'm sorry please don't hate me I love all my readers truly I do but this was asked of me and I had to forgive me please!

Clint looked undeniably handsome. He wore a light grey suit over a dark shirt, the mirror to Bucky’s black suit and grey shirt, and the lights placed around the church made his blonde hair glow. His eyes were shining too, brimming with happiness and unable to look anywhere but Bucky’s face. Neither could stop smiling. Stood opposite each other, the priest on Bucky’s left and their guests on his right, their joined hands hung loosely between them; Bucky gave Clint’s fingers a squeeze, amazed that his grin could grow any further. The priest was saying something, but Bucky only heard the blood running through his head – and when, finally, they were told they could kiss one another, all he was thinking as he closed his eyes and leaned in was that he didn’t remember Clint ever looking so perfect. 

Bucky opened his eyes. 

There were no lights to cast a heavenly glow anywhere in the room. Nobody was wearing a suit. No priest was rambling gently on in the background. His face didn’t hurt from a near-permanent grin, and all that was in his hands was the bed sheets. But his heart was still pounding. 

Blinking in the dark, Bucky stared at the ceiling, something lodged in his chest. He raised his right hand, moving it slowly to the right side of the bed, eyes fixed firmly straight ahead. For what seemed like a minor eternity his hand hung loose in the air, and just when he dared to believe, he felt it: his blanket, faintly wrinkled, still cool, flat as the mattress it lay on. 

He didn’t remember Clint ever looking that perfect. 

“Fuck.” Screwing his eyes shut, Bucky let the pressure in his chest expand, rolling over into Clint’s space and curling around his pain. He pressed his face into the bed, still hoping to find some essence of him there even after all these years, but all he managed to do was dampen the sheets. All that time, he’d been careful to avoid dreaming of what never happened – he even told Natasha that he was finally moving on just last week, never mind that he still had moments like now when he was so sure Clint was – that he wasn’t alone. Crying into the cold side of the bed was hardly a sign of recovery. 

And yet… 

The next morning, eyes sticky and the edge of his pillow still faintly damp, Bucky rested his hand on the undisturbed blanket and felt the lukewarm simmer of sadness pool in his heart. He stayed like that for a few minutes, thinking of Clint, before his eye was drawn to the picture on the side table, and he reached up to pull it down, rolling onto his back when he had it. 

It was of him and Clint at a wedding – not theirs, but the photographer had insisted on capturing the guests as well as the main party. This one he’d taken on the sly, catching the two of them mid-laughter against the blurred-out greenery of the garden, only one or two other vague guests in the background. Bucky was wearing the purple button-down Clint surprised him with one Christmas (“It’s royal purple, Bucky, not just any old colour.”), sleeves rolled partially up his forearms, and Clint had given in to his probing and borrowed a silver one of Bucky’s, even managing to keep all his buttons – except for the one at the collar – done up. They each had a hand hidden behind the other’s back, and though Bucky looked on his way to doubling over Clint was relaxed, his crinkled eyes only for Bucky. 

The ache in his chest wasn’t painful; if anything it was oddly comforting. With a smile, Bucky reached up to trace the curve of Clint’s lips with his fingertips, not caring that he couldn’t recall what they’d been laughing about. He thought about the dream. It seemed at the time that Clint was more handsome than he’d ever been, but looking at the image in his hands Bucky knew that a dream could never match up to a photograph. He also knew a photograph couldn’t do justice to the real person, but ever since… since Clint’s death, photographs were what he’d come to rely on. For a long time he’d been terrified his memories were inadequate – and perhaps they were, but better inadequacy than nothing at all. Besides: he was a fool to think he could dream the perfect wedding, not least because one never happened (had never even been discussed). In all honesty, and with a large coating of cliché, Clint had been perfect every day. 

Bucky sighed, letting the picture rest against his forehead and closing his eyes again. Gradually, the sad ache inside him petered out into a tender peace. The dream was sent to the banks of his memory, replaced instead with what he had to do for the day. Once out of bed, he walked around to put the photo back in its place, making sure it was at an angle where he could see it from most points in his room, and with a final brush of his fingers over that eternally happy smile, Bucky moved away.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "watch as i drop a heartbreaking prompt for you to rip my heart out with: Imagine your OTP at the altar of a church, about to get married. Just as they’re about to kiss, Person A wakes up in bed, sobbing and staring at the empty space beside them. In reality, Person B died years ago."
> 
> See? Not me! :P *offers tissues to all who need them*


End file.
